Emily Dickinson, the enigmatic American poet, captivated readers with her profound insights into the human soul and the mysteries of existence. Despite living a reclusive life, Dickinson's poetry spoke volumes about love, nature, and mortality, exploring these themes with unmatched depth and lyricism. Through her unconventional use of punctuation and syntax, Dickinson challenged literary conventions and paved the way for modernist poetry. Her work continues to resonate with readers around the world, inspiring new generations to contemplate the beauty and complexity of life.
"In lands I never saw, they say, Immortal Alps look down,Whose bonnets touch the firmament,Whose sandals touch the town, -Meek at whose everlasting feetA myriad daisies play.Which, sir, are you, and which am I.Upon an August day?"
"Eden is that old-fashioned house we dwell in every day Without suspecting our abode until we drive away."
"Faith-is the Pierless BridgeSupporting what We seeUnto the Scene that We do not-Too slender for the eyeIt bears the Soul as boldAs it were rocked in SteelWith Arms of Steel at either side-It joins-behind the VeilTo what, could We presumeThe Bridge would cease to beTo Our far, vacillating FeetA first Necessity."
"There is no Frigate like a book to take us lands away nor any coursers like a page of prancing Poetry."
"Tell all the Truth, but tell it slant/Success in Circuit lies..."
"Split the Lark-and you'll find the Music, Bulb after Bulb, in Silver rolled."
"THE MOON was but a chin of gold A night or two ago, And now she turns her perfect face Upon the world below. Her forehead is of amplest blond; Her cheek like beryl stone; Her eye unto the summer dew The likest I have known. Her lips of amber never part; But what must be the smileUpon her friend she could bestow Were such her silver will! And what a privilege to be But the remotest star! For certainly her way might pass Beside your twinkling door. Her bonnet is the firmament, The universe her shoe, The stars the trinkets at her belt, Her dimities of blue."
"Hope is the thing with feathers -That perches in the soul -And sings the tune without the words -And never stops - at all -And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -And sore must be the storm -That could abash the little BirdThat kept so many warm -I've heard it in the chillest land -And on the strangest Sea -Yet - never - in Extremity,It asked a crumb - of me."
"But it is growing damp and I must go in. Memory's fog is rising."
"Faith is a fine inventionWhen gentlemen can see,But microscopes are prudentIn an emergency."
"They might not need me; but they might. I'll let my head be just in sight; a smile as small as mine might be precisely their necessity."
"A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day."
"I know nothing in the world that has as much power as a word. Sometimes I write one, and I look at it, until it begins to shine."
"Impossibility, like wineExhilarates the manWho tastes it; PossibilityIs flavoreless."
"Heart, we will forget him!You and I, to-night!You may forget the warmth he gave,I will forget the light.When you have done, pray tell me,That I my thoughts may dim;Haste! lest while you're lagging,I may remember him!"
"To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few."